


walk right off the plank (into the wishing well)

by midnightluck



Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 07:42:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11709912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightluck/pseuds/midnightluck
Summary: Koala earns her new partner's trust and watches him get stabbed, cut himself open, and break his own heart. Just because it's necessary doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.





	walk right off the plank (into the wishing well)

**Author's Note:**

> This is...not what I set out to write, and I'm still not sure I like it. I'll probably try this again sometime, only happier.
> 
> Title based on a (changed) line from _Plank_ by Devil Makes Three

The third partner Koala is assigned smiles a lot. He bows when he says his name is Sabo, and he’s generally pretty nice and polite and doesn’t hesitate to cut back with words when she starts it. He’s tall as her, blond, and they click well as partners, despite her misgivings.

She comes to know he’s crazy in a subtle kind of way and has a reckless disregard for anyone’s personal safety when on mission. It is a trait that has mostly served him well.

Mostly.

“Don’t you trust me?” he’s asking her now, grinning  the most untrustworthy grin ever.

“The second we get back, I’m putting in for a new partner,” she says and crosses her arms. “This plan is stupid. The risk factor is too high--”

“High risk, high reward,” he answers, eyes full of mischief and arrogance and bad life decisions.

She sighs and doesn’t unfold her arms. “I want it on record that I’m following you under protest.”

“Sure,” he agrees easily, tipping his hat. “You worry too much; it’ll be fine!”

It was, of course, not fine at all.

* * *

“You deserved it,” Koala says later, stumbling under his weight. “I can’t believe you tried to bribe him--”

He sways a bit and she holds his arm tighter. “His profile said--” he protests.

She hisses him quiet because he doesn’t get to talk, not after that. “--you deserved to get stabbed--”

“--it’s just a scratch, really, I’m fine--”

“You’re crazy, is what you--shit!” She lunges to the side, dragging him with and gritting her teeth against the strain it puts on her knee. He helps as much as he can, and they press into the small shadow in between shops.

Boots go thudding by, with lots of yelling. She bodily presses him further into the shadows and knows it’s gotta be hurting his shoulder, but he doesn’t make a sound.

It seems to take forever for the noise to fade, and she’s careful when she ducks out to check the path. It’s clear, so she drags his arm back across her shoulders and hauls him forward some more.

“Come on, we’re nearly there,” she says to both of them and keeps walking. The masts of the small schooner they’ve got for this mission are clearly visible. “We’ve got the berth til morning so once we get in, we can take a look at your shoulder.”

“I’m fine,” he says, stumbling over his own feet. “Just gimme a band-aid; I’ve had worse.”

“That’s not--!” She takes a deep breath, then lowers her voice and continues. “That’s not the _point_. C’mon, keep going.”

They make it all the way down the dock, and she looks up at the lines securing the schooner to the cleats. Her mouth sets, firm, and she ducks out from under his arm. “Lean against the hull; I’ll go up and put down the gangway.”

He protests because of course he does, but she jumps for the line and climbs it with the ease of long practice. She scrambles for the gangway and gets it down, rushing because otherwise he might do something dumb like try to climb the rope himself.

She’s mildly and pleasantly surprised to find him right where she left him, for once. He’s sweating profusely and his smile is solidly in grimacing territory, but he quietly lets her help him up the gangway.

He heads down into the cabin while she resecures the gangway and checks the lines real quick, and by the time she gets down there too, he’s at least got the medical kit out and his coat off, but he’s trying to bandage his shoulder _over his shirt._

“ _Sabo_.”

His teeth flash in the least convincing smile she’s ever seen him try. “I’m fine,” he says, and her patience snaps.

She drops and sweeps his feet, and he goes down. He doesn’t even manage to catch himself, which speaks more to how fine he isn’t than anything he could’ve said. She sighs, then goes and sits on his back to keep him there.

He wiggles and yells halfheartedly about how fine he is while she cuts the shirt apart and wipes away enough blood to get a look at it. It looks jagged but not too deep, probably, maybe, if he’d just stop _moving_ \--

By the time she's putting in the stitches, though, he's finally holding still. The boat is rocking and it's hard enough in the dark anyway, thank you. They both say a lot of really horrible things during it, and she grits her teeth and works through it because for all he’d put them in a spot to get hurt, the man _had_ been aiming for her.

She dumps probably too much antiseptic on it and he howls like he didn’t when he actually got stabbed, the bastard. She wraps it with the only bandage they have left, swearing and snarling at him to stop it and not even trying to be gentle.

When it’s all done, he’s panting and getting sweat and blood everywhere, and she’s covered with both and still sitting across his back. She stares down at her hands, red against the pale skin and angry pink burns, and just breathes for a minute. He does the same, and the air is close and hot and quiet.

“I’m not sorry,” she says eventually.

He laughs, just a bit, and returns, “My brother would like you.”

She’s suddenly breathless for a whole ‘nother reason, and she scoots off to sit on the floor. It’s not an apology or a thank you but it’s so much more.

Because this is _Sabo_ , the bright rising star of the Revolutionary Army and professionally paranoid spy. They found him dying of burns in the middle of the ocean and he’s been theirs ever since, but they know exactly _nothing_ about his life from before.

Koala has to blink more than a few times to kill the burn, and then busies herself with repacking the medical kit. She can hear him sitting up somewhere beside her, but doesn’t dare to look over.

This is the first time since he's joined that he's voluntarily giving up any kind of personal information whatsoever, much less a weakness as big as a family that he loves. It's a gesture of trust so monumental, and it is because she _earned_ it.

So she swallows and the next thing she says is, “We need to restock bandages when we get back.”

She never does get around to following through on that request for a different partner.

* * *

It becomes a thing.

In the quiet darkness of completed missions, when they’re safe for the moment and done catching their breaths but before the chaos starts up again, whoever messed up the most or feels the worst will offer something, just a little thing.

The time she gets him captured and has to go save him from torture, she lays in the darkness and stares at the wood above them and recites the history she carries on her skin, talking into the darkness with the soft counterpoint of waves and breathing. He accepts it and doesn’t try to apologize or empathize, like everyone else does when they find out.

In the morning, they’re right back to how they always are. She checks on his swollen wrist, he insists he’s fine, and she threatens to request a new partner and certainly doesn’t cry.

His are all about his brother. It's all stories about this kid named Ace. They come spilling out of him and it becomes abundantly clear to her why he's never mentioned Ace before. Sabo loves him to a worryingly dangerous degree; Ace is less Sabo’s weakness and more of a walking wound.

It's not like he only tells the good stories, either; he tells even the bad ones. The ones where they hurt each other and argue over tiny things, the ones where Ace disappeared for days and Sabo worried he was dead, and the ones where they failed at hunting and curled up hungry in the trash heap they apparently grew up in. Koala soon realizes why he tells them, even though every time he sounds like he’s poking that wound harder: he was so young when he joined the Army, and Sabo's clinging to any memory he has of them with fingernails and teeth.

It's another two years of constant missions and close calls and harrowing escapes before he even mentions Luffy.

* * *

“Let’s stop for lunch,” Sabo says.

Koala looks up to where he’s standing on the railing, one hand in the rigging and leaning out dangerously far, and sighs.

“Come on,” he says, swinging out on one foot to somewhat face her. “We’re two days ahead of schedule, the island is right there, and we can resupply!”

“We shouldn’t,” she says, but she’s already changing their course. They’ve got a while yet to go before they get back to base, and the problem with Sabo is that he eats _everything_. If stopping off so he can eat things that aren’t part of their rapidly dwindling supplies is an option, she’s gonna take it.

“You’re the best, Koala,” he says, and she rolls her eyes. She can never tell if he means it but it doesn’t matter because yes, she is the best.

“”I’m a pushover, is what I am,” she mutters, but it’s mostly for show.

They dock at the port with no issues, and Koala takes care of securing the boat while Sabo goes to rent the slip for a few hours. He comes meandering back with his hat tilted just a bit and a light in his eyes that she knows too well. “What’s up?” she asks instead, because accusing will just get denials.

“Interesting rumors,” Sabo says casually. “Some pirate causing trouble hereabouts, so the Marines are on a manhunt.”

She finishes tying off the last cleat and sits back on her heels. “Too hot?” she asks, and he shakes his head.

“They’re focused on the pirate,” he says, and offers her a hand up. She takes it, and they stroll into town.

A stampede of Marines comes pouring down the main street, and she pulls Sabo back and to the side as they pass. Neither says anything because they’re too busy trying to make out what the Marines are shouting.

Once they pass and the street clears, Sabo offers her arm. She takes it and they keep walking, and she murmurs, “Fire Fist, huh? Didn’t expect him all the way out here.”

Sabo hums like he’s listening, but he’s not paying attention, she can tell. His eyes are everywhere, looking for either threats or restaurants, so she continues mostly thinking out loud. “Whitebeard Commander, right? Was offered a shichibukai position and turned it down.”

“Of course he did,” Sabo says absently, attention caught by something across the street. “He couldn’t’ve risked it.”

She glances over too, and there he is. Fire Fist is leaving an alleyway, headed the opposite direction as the Marines. He probably thinks he’s sneaking but he mostly looks oblivious.

She can tell the moment they go from wandering to following Fire Fist. She’s still got a hand on Sabo’s arm and his steps go from purposeful to relaxed. It’s all fake, of course, but they both know you only want to look purposeful when you haven’t got a purpose, and eyes skate over a relaxed wanderer in a crowd.

Fire Fist turns the corner ahead of them. It’s not an issue until the _clang-boom_ of a fight echoes out and then Sabo steps double-quick to catch up, nearly dragging her along.

She slides her hand away from his arm when he unholsters his pipe. “Wait--” she says, running after him, but he’s already charging forward.

She skids around the corner right after him, but he’s already in the thick of the group of Marines. There’s only a dozen or so, and with Fire Fist at it too, Koala knows she’s not needed. She steps back to the corner they’d come around instead; she’ll be the eyes and let him know if more are coming, and it’s always better to have the advantage of surprise, when you can get it.

The Marines fall because of course they do; they could never hope to stand against either Fire Fist nor Sabo in quality, and with both together they’d lost even quantity. They go down hard and fast and stay down, and Sabo spins both himself and his pipe around to face Fire Fist.

Fire Fist glares at him through narrow eyes. “Do I know you?” he asks, hands high and defensive.

She hears Sabo do that thing he does, regulating his breath, and then he says, " _Ace,"_ in a way she's never heard in daylight. And now she knows why, because that expression on his face looks like heartbreak.

It makes her breath catch in her throat because suddenly she knows; this isn't just Fire Fist Ace, this is Sabo's Ace, and her duty to watching her idiot partner's back is conflicting with the sense that this is something she really shouldn't see.

"Who are you?" Ace asks, and Sabo's smile turns hollow under manic-bright eyes.

"You don't recognize me?" he asks, and she will never know how much effort it takes to keep his voice that steady.

Koala is watching this, every word sticking under her bones like shattered glass, because this is Ace, this is Sabo's Ace, and he clearly doesn't recognize his own brother.

And Sabo--Sabo is young and driven and high up already, trusted with secrets and in charge of plans, and she knows he can't afford a weakness, much less one like _this._ And if she knows it, she knows he does too.

Finally Ace straightens up, dropping his stance to wave dismissively. "Whatever, stranger,” he says. “I'm gonna get back to the crew. And Pops. Because I'm a Division Commander of the _Whitebeard_ _Pirates._ And they are my family and _extremely protective_."

Sabo’s face doesn’t change but his breath breaks. It’s funny, she thinks, in an awful kind of way; she can almost see Sabo's hand in that warning. He must’ve tried to teach Ace how to think tactically, but it’s blunt and imprecise.

It’s also effective, because using family against Sabo makes the light in Sabo's eyes go dead. He's hitting that dangerous nobody-home look that heralds a breakdown, and then Ace turns away.

“Oh, _Ace.”_ Sabo takes one second, one instinctive step forward, and one quiet breath that shudders. Then his hand and his shoulders fall and he smiles, a smile so sharp with grief that it cuts Koala cold.

Ace doesn’t seem to notice the pain there, though. “Yeah, seriously, bye,” he says, edging away.

“Goodbye, Ace,” Sabo says, watching him leave. “Go back to your family,” he says, even though Ace can’t possibly hear him anymore..”...you don't need my brand of trouble anyhow.”

Koala watches him watching his brother, and she knows that she will never ever threaten to request another partner ever again. She has been spoiled by him, for all his mischief, because there's no one else in the world this strong.

He doesn’t say anything to her about Ace or the lunch they never got. He just tugs the brim of his hat down and puts his smile in place, then aboutfaces and heads for the docks. She’s barely breathing as she follows him, and her heart hurts for every step he takes.

No one stops them or gets in their way, and he may have forgotten she’s there, for all the attention he’s paying. He disappears under the deck without pause, and she hesitates.

The door closes behind him and she sinks down and sits in front of the stairs. There’s sounds coming from inside, but she ignores them and instead focuses on the world around them.

She can’t help in any way but this, so she’ll stand guard as long as he needs.


End file.
